


More of a Good Thing

by NancyBrown



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Clones, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Humor, Kink Meme, Orgy, Other, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyBrown/pseuds/NancyBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Jack's away with the Doctor, the team finds a very Torchwood method of dealing with their personnel shortage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More of a Good Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [We Happy Few](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2800) by [Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope/pseuds/Hope). 



> warnings: crack  
> prompt: clones, any character, any pairing  
> AN: Written for Touchyerwood. Inspired in great part by Hope's "We Happy Few". Go read it. (Pack a lunch.)

The first time, it was an accident brought on by too little sleep and far too much stress. Ianto juggled the stack of folders with one hand, and the artefact with the other, and really, anyone could have made the mistake with the button.

A flash of light later, and there was another him, standing in the room, blinking owlishly. Also stark naked.

Ianto first assessed the situation, consulted Owen to check on the nature of the thing (exact duplicate, down to the DNA), then made up his mind. He brought his double a spare suit, since he kept most of his suits there these days, and put him to work on the filing while Ianto went to help in the field. They needed all the help they could get with Jack gone, so one more Ianto was overall a good thing.

By the time they'd returned from the mission, filthy and tired, there were two more of him waiting, wearing more of his spare clothes.

"What's all this, then?" Owen demanded.

"Ianto," said Gwen, part soothing, part worrying, "you can't just keep cloning yourself."

"_I_ was in the field at the time. But it isn't a bad idea. One of me for field work, one to do maintenance, one to keep the Archives, one to handle the Tourist Centre." The other Iantos nodded in agreement.

"It's creepy is what it is," Owen said, and he went into his work area and refused to speak to any of the Iantos for the rest of the long day.

Gwen patted the original Ianto's shoulder. "Sweetheart, we're all overworked. This isn't healthy."

"I'll figure something out," he said.

After Gwen had walked off, Tosh came closer. "What device did you use?"

The following morning, there was one additional Ianto (in charge of maintaining the SUV) and there were also two new Toshes.

"Tosh?" Gwen asked, taken aback at the twinned women at the computers.

"I needed help compiling this," said Tosh Alpha. "And Mainframe is frankly long overdue for an overhaul."

Owen came in a bit late, and screamed when one Ianto offered him coffee while another busied himself cleaning the med bay. "This has really gone too far," Owen said when he'd recovered what passed for composure.

"I agree," said Gwen. "We need to lock the artefact in the secure archives."

Ianto Alpha said, "I'm the one who knows the codes for that, and so do they."

One of the Toshes said, "I could probably hack into it in about five minutes."

Gwen sighed. Her phone rang, and she answered it. "Hello, Rhys. Yes, love. I remember. Noon. I'll be there."

An alert went off as soon as she closed the phone, and she swore as a Tosh said, "No, you won't. We've got a Rift spike on Hope Street. Big one."

Gwen looked stricken at the prospect of abandoning her fiance once again. Then she looked at the Ianto who was busy dusting while another one cleaned the kitchenette. "What's this device called?"

"I don't believe you," Owen said in disgust, getting his kit for the field.

Sleeping arrangements were arranged by two more Iantos, who cleared out some old storage spaces in an unused area of the Hub, and soon a clone dormitory was up and running. Extra Gwens and Toshes appeared throughout the day to help, and Owen grumbled that whenever he counted teaboys, there was always one more. When everyone gathered in the main Hub the following morning, it was to find two Owens, dressed in scrubs, in the process of converting the old boardroom to a greenhouse for his plants, another in the middle of an autopsy, and a fourth looking at porn.

The Owens all looked at the others. "What?"

Five Gwens, Seven Owens, and two Toshes later (they'd reached a maximum containable number of Iantos), the Hub was crowded and bustling with activity. Missions were assigned one after the other, with no worry except no doubles. The systems in the Hub were running more smoothly than they had in years. Gwen, still pretending Jack was merely on an assignment rather than missing, fielded grateful calls from Whitehall and even received a word of thanks from Mr. Saxon himself, who everyone said was a shoe-in when the vote came round. He even had an investigation he wanted them to undertake to the Himalayas, which Gwen sent four clones to go check out, whilst giggling a little.

The day the flight left, two teams came back to the Hub to discover everyone still there had stopped work in favour of what anyone (except Jack) would describe as the world's weirdest orgy. Gwens licked and nibbled each others' breasts, while Toshes rode Owen cocks and Ianto cocks, and one Owen thrust into a Gwen while getting fucked by an Ianto, and two Toshes were in a pleasant 69 off to one side, and three Iantos were enjoying themselves with an Owen, while a Gwen passionately kissed a Tosh while both were being double-teamed by both men, and any mouth not occupied by kissing was filled with a cock or licking a cunt. The elbows and knees alone were a sight out of some Goyaesque horror.

"What's going on?" Gwen Alpha demanded.

One of her clones paused mid-lick to say, "The power cell is dying. We're only going to live another ten minutes. We voted to go out with a bang." Gwen Delta went back to her work on Ianto Epsilon. The four clones on the aeroplane were probably enhancing Torchwood's reputation all by themselves.

Tosh Alpha and Ianto Alpha both tilted their heads, entranced, while Owen pulled out his camera and began taking pictures. Gwen Alpha looked like she wanted to protest, and instead was distracted by the arses of a particularly amorous Owen/Ianto coupling.

Sure enough, in about ten minutes, amid groans and screams and spurts and appeals to God, the giant pile of fuck sort of melted into a viscous mess of green slime and a little trickle of jizz.

Except for the naked Owen in the middle. The Owen with the camera had melted away. Owen Alpha said, "What?"

Ianto went for his mop, while Tosh hurried to lock the artefact in the secure archives and change the passcode. Owen pulled on his clothes. Standing at the edge of the mess, careful to keep her boots free of it, Gwen said, "All right, everyone. When Jack gets back, nobody tell him about this."

They were all in perfect agreement.


End file.
